


Happy Birthday, Baby

by Meduseld



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Spanking, written in 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-28
Updated: 2011-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: Thanks to Bones, Jim has the best birthday ever.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Happy Birthday, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the quarantine I found this, written many, many years ago (2011, so nearly a decade) for a kink meme prompt I have no hope of finding. Don’t mind the tiny Batman reference, or the lack of beta. Enjoy.

James T. Kirk doesn’t have the best track record with birthdays.

He doesn’t know it but he spent his first birthday screaming alone in his nursery, forgotten while his mother also wept for the husband she’d lost as his brother stared on, confused. They haven’t shown all that much improvement since.

His mother was rarely on planet for them, and when she was they didn’t celebrate, they mourned. When she wasn’t, the celebration usually consisted of Sam clapping him on the shoulder and serving him extra cereal.

Oh yeah, Frank gave him two extra special presents for his tenth and twelfth birthdays, a broken wrist and a dislocated shoulder, respectively.

So Jim isn’t the kind of guy that gets excited for his birthdays, which turned out to mostly consist of beer and a girl, or bar fights. And the occasional weepy, accusatory comm from his mother.

So Jim’s pretty much resigned to have shit birthdays for the rest of his life, until suddenly he’s turning twenty-five and he’s the captain of the best damn ship and crew in the fleet.

It's all a little surreal, with everyone being so _sincere_ in their birthday wishes. Spock claps him on the shoulder and congratulates him in a very Vulcan way (“May the day commemorating your nativity be pleasant, Captain”) and Uhura and Chekov lead a second rendition of the birthday song in Russian.

By the time Bones drapes an arm over his shoulders and squeezes for a moment, whispering “Blow out the candles, kid” Jim is grinning so hard he thinks his face might break.

The party end kind of quickly after that, after all almost everyone has shift the next day, except Jim and Bones who head back to Jim’s room for nightcaps. They get giggly a few shots in, and Jim finally admits to Bones that it was the best birthday he’s ever had.

Bones, being Bones, laughs.

“The _hell_ Jimmy? We had cake in the rec room. No booze. And the birthday song was in Russian for fuck’s sake. Now when you have a real, All-American birthday, that’ll be the best birthday ever” Bones grinds out in his drawl, but the smile on his face gives him away.

“Oh yeah?” Jim challenges. “Well _Dixie_ , what would we need to make this as American as apple pie?” Bones snorts, but his eyes are still warm. Glittering, says the poet in him. “Peach pie, Jim, it’s better. And if you want a real birthday, get in my lap and I’ll give you a good old fashioned birthday spanking”.

The idea of crawling into Bones’ lap sends a shiver of _something_ through Jim, and it’s so distracting that he almost misses the predatory, hooded look Bones is giving him, right before the doctor launches from his chair at Jim.

They tumble to the floor, wrestling like children, giggling throughout. They’ve done this once or twice, back at the Academy, usually way more trashed than they are now, buzzed on aced exams or good days at work. It’s nice. Familiar.

Finally though, Bones pins him down, before hauling him up into his best friend’s lap on the couch. Jim’s still grinning when Bones asks if he’s ready.

Then the first blow lands and all the air goes out of Jim.

Because it felt….it felt like nothing’s ever felt before. Better than good, so much so that his body is screaming _This. This!_

When the second one hits the sensation just builds and Jim stiffens up, biting his lips to keep from moaning, reeling at the fact that this is happening. He’s getting hard.

The third lands and he almost squeaks; Bones pauses.

“Jim, you okay?” he says, his voice colored with concern.

“Don’t stop” Jim gasps out “Please, please just don’t, don’t…” he begs and Bones shifts a little and starts up again.

It’s different now, less playful, more adult, and it’s so, so _good_.

Jim can feel it building, his harsh pants echoing in his ears by ten, his moans by fifteen.

He’s diamond hard against Bones’ thighs and he can feel the shape of Bone’s erection against him, but he’s flying so high that he can’t bring himself to think about what it means.

His world has narrowed down to the points where his best friend’s hand connect to him and the sensation, the red haze of _Yes Please God More._

Above him he can hear McCoy’s southern drawl, growing thick, whispering about how Jim looks, how much he wants it.

“God, baby. You’re gonna feel me, aren’t you? For days darlin’, every time you sit you’re gonna _know_. They won’t but we will, won’t we? Fuck, if you’re not beautiful like this, needing it, _moaning._ ”

It’s almost too much and he’s gone past screaming, just making little noises now, his brain telling him they’ve just passed twenty.

“Bones- _Bones_ , I’m gonna…” he tries, but Bones just keeps going, flexing his thigh, helping Jim along.

And then at twenty-five Jim goes off, his mind whiting-out into freefall. It’s like falling from that drill, but this time he knows someone’s gonna catch him. Bones will catch him.

When he floats back, he can hear Bones saying “Shit babe, let me see.” The cool air hits his ass as Bones yanks down on the waistband of his pants, not enough to free him, enough to see the top of his ass.

His friend ( _friend?_ His brain questions _Isn’t he more now?_ ) whistles low, admiring his work, before digging his thumbs into the bruises.

Jim moans, grinding down onto the doctor’s thigh. Then Bones hoists him up, sitting Jim in his lap, nuzzling his neck.

If Jim weren’t so caught up in the haze of pleasure, he’d probably be panicking.

Panicking over the fact that he apparently had a fairly bullet-proof kink and what it meant, and about the fact that he might just be fucking up the best relationship in life with sex.

But he’s lost, so instead he grinds down into Bones’ lap as he thrusts up, hard in his pants. One of the surgeon’s hands is on the bulge still trapped in Jim’s pants, rubbing, the other squeezing his reddened ass.

Bones is still nuzzling his neck, licking and scratching him with stubble. Jim’s never been a talker during sex, but he is loud and he’s back to the loud moans and groans of before.

Bones, apparently, _is_ a talker, and after sucking on Jim’s earlobe he starts whispering in his honey drawl.

“Come on, baby, let go for me. Come on, wanna feel ya. Wanna make you feel so good, baby. Come on.” It’s too much, and Jim screams as he comes this time, slamming back into Bones.

He feels Bones thrust up and shudders, and feels the wet spreading across the front of his friend’s pants.

He shivers, melting into Bones, feeling his heart slow. Bones has his arms wrapped tight around Jim’s waist; his head ducked against the back of Jim’s neck, the warm pants from his open, wet mouth almost enough to get Jim hard again.

Jim shifts so the sides of their faces are pressed together. He sneaks a glance but McCoy’s eyes are closed, his face a study of post-orgasmic expression.

“We should get to bed” Jim says, when he’s collected enough.

Bones snaps out of his daze, his eyes shooting open, his arms falling from Jim’s waist like they’ve been burned.

“Yeah, sure, I…” he says, trailing off a little, his face red, looking away from Jim. It would be almost sweet, if it wasn’t terrifying.

“I meant here, Bones. I’m asking…” Jim says, trailing off a little too.

“Oh. Oh? Oh!” Bones says and Jim smiles at the new expression on his friend’s? lover’s? face. Maybe they haven’t fucked this up too badly.

The clean up’s a little awkward, and they’re both blushing like virgins when they settle, naked, into Jim’s big bed.

One of McCoy’s big hands comes up to cup Jim’s face and he sighs a little at how tender it is.

“So that was _totally_ my best birthday ever” Jim says and Bones chuckles. “Glad I could help.”

There’s a momentary silence, then Jim feels compelled to say “I’ve, uh, never done that before…I didn’t know it could feel so…” he blurts, turning a little red.

Bones must find it cute, because he smiles, and strokes Jim’s face with his thumb.

“I have.” Jim feels his eyes go wide with shock, and it must be so obvious that he elaborates.

“Pamela Isley, sophomore year of college. She, uh, she liked that. Showed me the ropes.” Now Bones is blushing a little and its Jim’s turn to find it cute.

“I should send her a thank you note.” Bones chuckles “Rather you didn’t. She married one of my frat brothers, actually. Three kids. She’s the size of a whale now.”

Jim can’t help it, he bursts out laughing at that, and at the fact that Bones was in a _frat_. He’ll have to rib him about it later. For now, he cuddles up to his friend’s chest instead.

“Hey Bones? How do you feel about breakfast?” Bones gives him the look that says _have you been smelling pollens and/or ingesting alien beverages lately?_

“Breakfast? As in ‘the most important meal of the day’?” he says, the confused scowl still in place “I don’t know, that it should be balanced?”

Jim smiles. “I meant with me. Tomorrow.”

Bones’ expression is so happy that Jim wonders why they haven’t done this before.

“In that case I’d love to.” “’Kay” Jim says, then kisses Bones, for the hell of it, so that he’ll always be able to say he did, at least once.

Bones kisses him back, lazy and loving and Jim can’t believe he’s this lucky.

“Lights 2.5% Go to sleep, kid.” Bones orders and they slip into dreams together.

*

Jim doesn’t know it yet, but in the morning he’ll greet Bones with another kiss, and he’ll return the favor by fucking Jim into the mattress, so by the time they get to breakfast its more like brunch.

He doesn’t know that it’ll strike him as hilarious that they did the kinky shit first, then kissed for the first time, slept together, and then finally had their first date.

He’ll shoot orange juice through his nose, halfway through their meal, getting most of it on Bones’ food.

He doesn’t know that Bones is the last person he’ll ever sleep with, that he’ll marry the doctor at the end of their five year mission.

And he doesn’t know that, even when he’s 90, he’ll still count it as his best birthday. He doesn’t know all that because for now, he sleeps.


End file.
